New Friend

I just watched someone’s entire life on facebook.

One of my coworkers, an elderly woman, friended me today. I’m not particularly close with her, but we’ve had pleasant conversations over the past year, most of which had to do with me being a writer.

“I wrote when I was younger,” she likes to say. “Poetry.”

And then she recommends an author or two.

Her facebook pictures go from present day back to her youth. Days where she's much younger than I am today. She’s maybe 19 in some: standing by lockers, holding umbrellas, and wearing dresses that are too long and puddle at her bare feet. She’s beautiful. Dancing, kissing a boy, standing at the bottom of a mountain. One of the pictures stuck out to me the most - she was in a kitchen, which looked like it belonged to an old cabin, cooking in a white t-shirt and short shorts. Long, long legs.

“Who wheres short shorts?!” someone commented; an old friend of hers, I’m assuming, since his profile picture was that of an old man.

She responded with a smiley face.

And the pictures went on. She aged, got married, had a baby, another baby, and slowly turned into the woman I know today: a pleasant old lady. Someone who still wears long dresses. Someone who is still beautiful and likes to talk with me about poetry.

I wouldn’t say I know her any better now. Of course I don’t, I’ve only seen pictures of her youth. But still, I can’t help but look at her differently. I know that in another world, or another time, we could have been more than just friendly coworkers who smile as they pass in a hall. And that would have been nice. Maybe we could have been best friends.

So yeah, I accepted her friend request.